Fat Lip

Certainties.  They’re not just limited to death and taxes anymore.

Another absolute certainty:  If there is a family outing to be had, Little M will look like she belongs on an episode of Survivor:  Rural Arkansas.

All I want, for the love of God, is one family picture taken at a major holiday/family event where we look like a nice, somewhat upstanding middle-class family and not the Beverly Hillbillies.

That won’t be happening for Thanksgiving.  Yet again, Little M will look like a HOT MESS at another family gathering.  Sigh.

Over the years, we’ve accumulated some truly fetching injuries and calamities.  These have included:

1. The Rocky Balboa black eye acquired the day before her first birthday party (The Culprit:  Cabinet Hardware that doesn’t have surrounding airbags)
2. The Bambi Attacks deer tick on July 4^th (The Culprit: We live in Bumblef*ck, where you are more likely to encounter a deer than an actual person).
3. The “Little Dutch Boy” haircut immediately preceding the first day of school.  (The Culprit:  It would be easier to give an octopus a pedicure than to cut bangs into the hair of a 2 year old.  ‘Nuff said.)
4. The “If I Wear my Ladybug Wings From Halloween, I Can Fly” collection of bruises along the shins---always preceding trips to Grandma’s house.  (The Culprit:  Various incidents of stupid).
5. The “There’s no Mother’s Day Present Quite Like Pink Eye”.  (The Culprit:  Oasis Child Fun and Infectious Disease Center .  Oasis, I HATE YOU.)

For your entertainment, this year we add the Prize Fighter Fat Lip (the “PFFL”).  Just in time for Thanksgiving dinner and the myriad photo opportunities that will occur on this day.

I might just earn my “Mom of the Year” badge for this one.  I figure it is just a matter of time before Child Protective Services comes and gives me that vacation and part-time freedom I so desperately deserve hauls Little M away.

The short story is that the PFFL showed up immediately following a trip to the dentist where Little M had her first cavity filled. 

Insert any/all judgment on my parenting due to the presence of said cavity HERE:________________________________

Little M actually did great at the dentist office, thus prompting a premature sigh of relief.  No good relaxing goes unpunished in my neck of the woods, however.  Little M was not a fan of being unable to feel her lip---as such, she bit it until she could feel it, which only occurred after she bit all the way through and blood was geysering everywhere.

I should add that I was not at home at the time of the actual bite; instead, I was greeted from work with a sentence that began with “Don’t be alarmed, but….”

Sentences starting that way always end so well.

Her lip kinda looks like it got stuck in a pool drain, then stung by a bee, and then punched.   Repeatedly. 

The long story is now I not only have to explain why my 4 year old looks like a doppelganger for Mike Tyson, I also have to explain why she had a cavity in the first place. 

This rates up there with a visit to the gyno in my “Top Things I Really Don’t Want To Deal With.”

I was planning on dusting that whole cavity thing right under the rug, never to be spoken of again.  Everyone in Mommyland knows that cavities rate right up there with suntans as indicators that your parenting skills aren’t exactly up to snuff.

I am forced to believe that those organic Reese’s Peanut Butter cups that I allow her to eat while watching educational television/Montel Williams so I can shower in peace might have backfired and caused a cavity or two.  False advertising.

Oops.

Now that I’m coming clean, I probably should also mention that we were nearly late for the dentist appointment because Little M walked down the stairs with 4 smuggled lollipops in her mouth---after her teeth were brushed.  Twice.  Apparently, she hid a stash in her outgrown clothes drawer, which I would have known about if I ever bothered to look there. Which I haven't.  Like ever.

And yes, we brushed her teeth twice before, and twice after the lollipop incident. It goes without saying that you need to save face with the pediatric dentist when they’re filling your 4 year old’s cavity. Even if scrubbing teeth that already have cavities is akin to detailing a car after it’s been firebombed.

So, I guess I know what will be the topic of conversation at the dinner table tomorrow night.  GO ME.

So, in the spirit of being thankful:

This year,  I’m thankful for Black Friday.  How I feel about Thanksgiving this year is similar to how I feel about clapping at the end of a truly terrible play---I'm not clapping because it was good, I'm clapping because it is over.